


Let It Out

by sociologize



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 12:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16040456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sociologize/pseuds/sociologize
Summary: It wasn't that Becky couldn't understand, though, why Sami suddenly took this turn.  She could, more than she was willing to admit.(A look into the friendship of Becky Lynch and Sami Zayn, starting from the Mixed Match Challenge and going to Summerslam)





	Let It Out

**Author's Note:**

> Sami's support for Becky gives me life, and gives me ideas, and so stuff like this gets written.
> 
> In other words I don't know what this is.

They say that on television a wrestler gets turned up to eleven, every quirk and tic on display, adding to the complicated personalities flitting across the screen every week.  And Becky thought that it was true - can confirm it's true, that whenever she's in front of the camera she turns everything up, everything that makes her Becky Lynch . . . and really, even off camera, she's not much different.  Subdued - but most wrestlers are, really - but there isn't much difference.

She knew Sami Zayn before his - whatever you want to call it.  His _turn_ , his firing off to the dark side, when he suddenly appeared at Hell in a Cell to help Kevin Owens and the two reconciled their friendship.  She was just as shocked as everyone else, that the good-hearted, strictly moral _Sami Zayn_ would do such a thing, and as the nights progressed and he descended further down the path he'd chosen, it was almost like watching a different man.  Almost, but not quite.

To say her and Sami were friends was a bit of an overstatement.  They'd been friendly, they'd talked more than a handful of times whenever they'd seen each other, but up until they were teamed together for the Mixed Match Challenge, that was it.  That wasn't to say she wasn't familiar with his career; she watched the men's' matches, both in NXT and on the main roster, was well-aware of how close he'd come, time after time, and how close it mirrored her own shortcomings.  He was the "Underdog from the Underground", and if corporate didn't like spreading nicknames between Superstars, and she didn't already have one with the "Lasskicker", she was sure she'd have some kind of "underdog" rubbish nickname, too.

(When she let it, it made her angry sometimes, a low heat in her gut slowly boiling higher.  But every time it would simmer and calm, and she'd slam a proverbial lid on it almost as soon as it got going.  She wasn't like that. She couldn't be like that, no matter what she'd gone through.)

It wasn't that Becky couldn't understand, though, why Sami suddenly took this turn.  She _could_ , more than she was willing to admit.  The well of frustration he must have felt, all those losses, coming up short in title matches, inches away from victories he should have had; she knew what it meant for people, fans, to look at you and want you to win so desperately they practically sang with it but at the same time not expect it to happen at all.  To still be a fan, to cheer as loudly as they could every single time you were out there giving it your all, and knowing it still wouldn't be enough.

When they finally meet up at first, she expected the Sami she saw on TV, the - sassy, back-talking and rude man he's come to be known as.  Not this strange mix of both, the Sami she knew and the man he'd become, snarky and friendly, quick-witted and snappish to others but quick to joke with her in the next breath, all laughs and smiles.  Like the world was against him, but Becky was on the short list of people who didn't deserve it. He even told her once, when they were tucked into the back corner of catering before Smackdown, heads bowed together as they strategized - Sami _loved_ to strategized and Becky humored him because it was so _Sami_ she couldn't stop him even if she wanted to - that she was one of the only people he could stand in this stupid place.  And it'd surprised her into laughing, a quick, loud genuine thing that seemed to surprise him too, until he grinned. She smacked him in the arm and playfully admonished him for being rude, and they went right back to planning.

And - okay, Becky appreciated Sami trying to draw out her anger, she really did.  But no matter how many times he insisted it was there, that she just had to _try_ , let it go, she couldn't do it.  Even when Sami would set up ridiculous situations for her to walk into to get her angry, push her to finally make it happen, it always waned and fizzled, the lid slammed down before it could get out of hand, like she always did.  In front of the cameras he would be disappointed, loud for the cameras, but it was never genuine; there was always something just a bit off in his tone. Like he knew, _really_ knew, and that it was only a matter of time before - she didn't know.  She never allowed herself to think too much about it.

She let herself think about other things, though, when she'd get strangely thoughtful about this strange friendship she was forming with Sami.  Like how alike they were, how laughable and painful it was all at once, right down to the friends they chose. The best friends who they loved so fully, so blindly, that neither of them saw the proverbial daggers in their back.  That somehow both of them ended up crawling back - or did Kevin and Charlotte return to them? She wasn't sure, and she didn't think too hard about _that_ , either - and now there they were.  Only Becky was sure Charlotte wouldn't do that to her again.  She couldn't be so sure about Kevin Owens. Everyone knew about his and Sami's history on the indies, as much as WWE danced around the specifics of it all, and she worried for Sami, that it would end up happening again.  She wanted to believe that he knew that, too, but - she worried. And she kept it to herself.

It isn't a huge surprise that they're knocked out of the MMC early and the team-up is over, and they don't talk much afterwards, not right away.  It's the Road to Wrestlemania, the biggest show of the year looming in the distance and Sami's focused entirely on his - whatever with Kevin and Shane McMahon and that entire mess, and Becky with her entire attention on her own goals.  They saw each other occasionally, sure, across catering or in the hallways, but everyone was so busy that at most they'd exchange a quick greeting or a wave and that was it. Sometimes Becky wished they had a little more time, because her and Sami, when they were teaming together, sometimes briefly talked about things only the two of them would really understand and she missed that.  She missed those brief _moments_ where someone just understood, and there was no one else like that.

Sami had been the one to give her his phone number, the moment after the cameras had gone off, after she'd learned they were partners, eyes bright with excitement.  "So we can strategize!" He'd excitedly told her, and the fans in line with him had cheered, momentarily forgetting that Sami was supposed to be a bad guy.

She still texted him sometimes, and at first she wasn't sure why.  Maybe because it'd been a weird kind of routine when they were teaming, but then she realized that wasn't it.  Then maybe because she wanted someone to talk to - but it wasn't as though she didn't have any other friends to talk to, and the conversations she and Sami had weren't ones she'd have with him over text anway.  Finally, she settled on it being because she just wanted to let him know he still had a friend. A friend outside of the war he was waging Tuesday nights with Kevin and everything else, and maybe a little because she wanted that too.

They never actually spoke about what was going on, though, and Becky never admitted to why she kept in contact.  They both kept it lighthearted and fun, sharing pictures they thought the other would find funny or cute, silly jokes and puns and anything else.  It wasn't every day, they were both too busy, but it was enough that each time she'd look at her phone and see a message from Sami, it made her smile.  And it'd make her wonder if maybe Sami wanted whatever this was, too. It'd make her wonder if, even after all this time, all the bullshit on TV, that the real Sami was still there, clawing his way through whatever crawled up and took over when the cameras turned on.

\--

Becky supposed she's the one who drew the line, the one that didn't cross into business or anything that was on TV, and even now she doesn't know who's benefit it was for, hers or Sami's.  But she's the one steps over it first the night of Fastlane.

She's still smarting from her own defeat, sat in the locker room and toweling at her hair and debating leaving early.  Defeats, lately, had been cutting just that little bit deeper, lingering just that bit longer, no matter how much she was trying to ignore it.  She was just about to pack up her things and find her car, get out of there before the last match went on, but she paused as she suddenly remembered - Sami's in the match.  It's for the title.

Before she can consider it further, she sat back down.

It's a rough match, but that isn't unexpected; all of the men in the match were top tier players, and they were all vying for the top title on Smackdown, and a chance to dethrone AJ Styles, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Sami wanted it just as badly as the other five - _more_ so than the others.  She could see it in the way he moved, like any other match.  He wrestled like every match was a title match, like every potential victory mattered, and it rang a familiar bell deep inside her.  They were so much alike.

But - she knew the moment it wasn't going to happen, the second the scales tipped out of Sami's favor permanently.  Kevin's foot collided Shane's face, a complete accident - she wasn't stupid, for all that there was all that tension between them only a fool wouldn't see that it wasn't deliberate - and when Shane's temper gets the better of him, it's done.  He screws Kevin out of a pin, he screws Sami out of a pin - Sami who had been _so close_ , and it's done.  Neither of them win, but she only cared about one.

For a moment, she wonders if maybe Sami brought this upon himself.  And in a way he had, being involved with Kevin and the whole thing with Shane and she couldn't deny that.  But then again . . .

Before she realized what she was doing her phone is in her hands and she's typing out a text.  Sami won't get in until later, and he may not even reply. And that's fine, she doesn't expect - and some part of her doesn't even really want - a reply.

Wasn't very fair, you should have had that. Next time, yeah?

She isn't sure if it's supposed to be comforting or what, but Becky doesn't think about it too much longer because it's time to head to the hotel.  She's exhausted, and putting Sami out of mind for now brings her own defeat back, and she goes to bed with the sound of a three count pounding in her head and the itchy feeling of the mat against her shoulders.

The next morning she doesn't check her phone until they're leaving and she doesn't remember she even sent the text until she's checking her phone, one hand tossing her bag into the trunk of the rental.  She can hear Charlotte at the front of the car saying something, but all of her attention is suddenly on her phone, because Sami texted her back.

not going to say I deserve it?

This felt like bait.  Like he was testing her, or asking her to choose a side in this great war he and Kevin were waging against Shane.  Or like he just wanted to see what she'd say, because he knew she'd be honest.

So that's what she does; she gives him an honest response.

Nope. Deserved to win, maybe. But we both know that.

thanks becks

The response was immediate and she smiled, and then ignored Charlotte's teasing as she rounded the car to toss her bag in with Becky's in the trunk.

\--

Wrestlemania was . . . not her proudest moment, and it was so incredibly rough, for both her and Sami.  Him more, in the grand scheme of things, when you took into account his _career_ being on the line, compared to a stupid trophy in her match.  

Don't get wrong; she was happy for Naomi, the girl worked just as hard for everything as she did and if anyone deserved to win, it was her.  But she couldn't help but feel bitter, too, that she'd been eliminated before she could get close to winning, that it hadn't even been a _good_ elimination, and the anger and bitterness stirred in her stomach and lingered, boiling up higher than it ever had for one long, terrifying moment.

She almost considered letting it go further.  Letting it go completely, like Sami had wanted her to.  But instead she shook her head, a shudder shaking her out of it, and the lid slammed down, again.  

Her match hadn't gone well, but Sami . . . well, Daniel Bryan returning had been a big deal, and had meant only one thing, and Becky wasn't going to acknowledge anything past that.  It felt like a betrayal, almost. Was she excited about it? Of course! But the details of it all . . . she couldn't. Maybe when everything was less raw, and she wasn't hurting from her loss and for Sami's at the same time, when everything was a dull ache rather than a sharp, piercing burn.

Briefly, she considered texting Sami again like she had after Fastlane, but this time she didn't feel up to it, at least not right away.  Maybe after she got back to the hotel, after Charlotte dragged her out to celebrate - because she could be happy for Charlotte and her win, as much as she didn't want to go out and have fun, as much as she'd rather crawl under her covers in room and be a miserable ball instead.  Maybe once she'd had time to herself and a hot shower, once she was alone in her room and she had the right words in her head she'd text Sami, Sami who longer had a place on Smackdown Live, who --

Her thoughts were cut off when her phone buzzed.

Who could be texting her _now_?  Curious, Becky reached over to her bag and pulled her phone out, and was both surprised and not to find a message waiting from Sami.  Wrestlemania was far from over, but his match had been a while ago now, so it made sense that he'd be back to his locker room by now.

took that hair whip like a champ, huh? looked good out there,

but you were knocked out too early.  next time!

A laugh bubbled up and out of her before she could stop it, and she covered her mouth before anyone else in the room could hear it.  She had to look ridiculous, hunched over her phone trying not to giggle at the sheer ridiculous feeling of _happiness_ a simple, encouraging text from _Sami Zayn_ gave her.  That despite his own circumstances, he was sending her this.  For just a moment she could forget that she had been thrown out, that she had felt bitter and angry and wanted to go mope, and sitting up and still wearing a smile, she responded.

Thanks Sami.

Sorry about your match, I was rooting for you.

She pauses, sobering, and added:

It'll be quiet around Smackdown without you.

yeah well.

we'll figure it out.

dont worry too much about it.

Who says I'm worried?

that much faith in me huh?

Never lost it, you know?

For all that Sami was stomping around with Kevin Owens as the bad guy now, there was one thing about Sami that hadn't changed, no matter how dark his soul and actions had become, and Becky had clung to that just as tightly as the belief she held that Sami was still Sami deep down; that he was following what _he_ believed in.  He had faith in that, and she could have faith in that, too.  Faith in him, it meant, and while she didn't agree with the _methods_ , not by any means, or the backstage attacks, nearly killing their boss, the extremes he had been going to the last few weeks - in a way, it was still Sami.  Just . . . darker.

She wondered if she could ever be like that, the thought quick and unwelcome, and it scared her that her immediate answer wasn't a no.  It scared her that it was easier and easier to see it. It made her shiver, just a little.

She'd never been more thankful for her phone buzzing again, pulling her out of her thoughts.

ha.

you're good people, becky.

thanks for being there.

Always.

Keep me updated, yeah?

will do.

\--

After Wrestlemania, the line that Becky and Sami had never actually agreed to didn't seem necessary anymore, so neither really bothered with it.  In between their usual, sporadic texts of jokes and silly pictures, they commiserate or congratulate each other on their losses and wins, each time encouraging the other with a cheerful "next time!" or when one or the other was feeling particularly bitter, a "you're not going to just leave it at that, are you?"

The next PPV for the both of them is Money in the Bank; her in the women's ladder match, much like last year, and Sami in a match with Bobby Lashley, the culmination of their ongoing feud on Raw - a feud that, he had admitted to her, was probably a little more than he could handle.  It made her worry, as all things idd when it came to Sami and anything he did nowadays, but she hadn't expected it to end like it did, nor hear the whispers of "Sami Zayn's in the trainer's room" in the hallways, as were common when someone got injured.

The last time they'd seen each other in person was actually one of the last times Sami had been on Smackdown, but this time Becky didn't think a text was appropriate or even enough.  Even with her own loss that night still simmering in her mind, her body still aching from the match, she put it aside for now while she waited for Sami to leave the trainer's room. The PPV was over by then, most of the Superstars gone for the night, even the person she was supposed to be riding with, but she didn't mind hanging behind this time.

When he finally emerged from the room Sami looked surprised to see her, arm tucked up close against him, and Kevin stepped out behind him, carrying two bags - probably his own and Sami's, and both stared at her for a long moment, as if uncertain what to do with her just standing there waiting.

It was Kevin, another surprise, who broke the silence.  "Thought you had it tonight." He offered, in a tone rarely heard from Kevin Owens; calm if a little sullen, not the angry, vicious tones she usually heard on TV but the voice that would sometimes get caught on the microphones when he was talking to Sami backstage.  The surprise on her face must've been obvious because he continues, already making an escape. "I'll meet you at the car, Sami. See ya, Becky." And off he went, disappearing around the corner towards the garage.

They both watched him go before turning back to one another, and Sami smiled at her, despite the obvious pain he was in.  After another moment he laughed and shook his head, like he'd just registered what Kevin had said, "Guess I'm not the only one."

"Wow."  Becky managed, after trying and failing for a response better than that and Sami laughed again, louder and a little brighter, and Becky couldn't help but smile as well.  "How's your arm?" She asked after a while, taking the chance to be serious, just for a minute.

"Not good."  Sami looked wry, lighting patting his injured arm.  She wasn't sure what the extent of the injury was, where it was, just that it was there, but at her curious look Sami just shook his head and gave a slow, careful shrug.  "I have to fly out tomorrow." _To Birmingham_ went unsaid.  "It's never good when they make you fly out that soon."

He would know, Becky thought, lips pursing.  This wasn't his first injury.

"At least you're free of Bobby Lashley."  Becky offered and immediately winced at the bad timing of her choice of words, but Sami laughed a little despite that.  "Will you keep me updated? On - how things go?"

It wasn't like he had to, or she expected anything less than a laugh and a dismissive answer.  When Becky had asked him to after Wrestlemania, she had watched RAW the following night and the only text she had received had been a "surprise?" and that was it.  They were - friends, probably, she wanted that to be what they were, but with whatever was ahead for Sami now, surely he had better things to do than to text her updates.  Even though he texted her less important things all the time.

"I will."  Sami answered, earnest, with a smile and a hand on her arm, like he appreciated her concern.  Entirely the opposite of what she expected. Again she was reminded that Sami was still Sami in there somewhere, the _good_ man she had wanted to bring out during their brief tag team.

She was more certain of it than ever, now.  Maybe Sami Zayn was both, and she was reminded of a certain wrestler on the indies Sami still acted funny about, even to this day.  Who wore a mask and - maybe that was it. The Sami on TV was wearing a mask of cruelty and angry things, while this Sami was the real thing, only removing the mask around those who he deemed worthy enough to see past it.

She smiled back and reached up to take his hand and give it a squeeze, a replacement for all the stupid, silly things she wanted to say.  "Can I walk with you to your car?" She said instead, and that earned her another laugh.

"What, do you think I'll get jumped on the way there?"

"You never know with this place!" She said, very seriously and not serious at all, keeping a hold of his hand as they started in the direction Kevin had gone.  "What if that big brute is waiting for you in the garage? I'll kick his ass for you if you want."

"Tempting." Sami laughed, following along.  "I think you could take him." He added, just as serious as she had been.

"Aww, you think so?" They rounded the corner and Kevin was waiting at the car, and just to be a little cheeky, gave him a wave that he awkwardly returned.  There was no Bobby Lashley in sight, but they still joked about it all the way to the car. Even Kevin got a jab in, to Becky's delighted surprise, about breaking his stupid, bulging arm.

She gave her goodbyes and, before she could second-guess her decision - where it had even come from she'd wonder about for weeks from now - offered Kevin her phone number, just in case.  Just in case of what she wasn't sure, but Sami gave her a look like he appreciated it more than he could put into words, and Kevin just grunted out something that sounded like "whatever".  But texted her almost immediately so she had his number, too. It was weird, but nice, and then she was left standing there watching them drive away, Sami waving until they were out of the garage.

\--

Maybe the loss at MitB was for the best, because after that it's like a new fire has ignited inside her.  She's on a streak, every night, no matter if it's televised or a house show, and she's never felt this _excited_ before - and if she has, it's been a long, _long_ time.  Not since she held the title last, at least.  It's been so long, and she wants back in the title scene so badly she can taste it.

In between, Sami texts her updates and congratulations, still scattered in between their usual mess of humor.  Every text made her smile because he's watching, he's stuck at home injured and unable to wrestle but he's still watching her matches, and it made her heart ache with happiness and sympathy.  But it's only matter of time before he'll be back, she's sure. She's certain of it, even after he tells her that he needs a second surgery.

But now, now there's more to this . . . texting thing.  Now there's a group chat with Kevin Owens involved, and the three of them share cute animal pictures and talk about general wrestling here and there, and sometimes Sami sends his updates there, because he doesn't feel like sending them separately.  It's still weird - it's _incredibly_ weird - Kevin is _not_ a good guy like Sami is, but he's also Sami's friend.  And maybe - maybe there's still something good in Kevin somewhere, waiting to be brought out.  Maybe that's why Sami found his way back to Kevin, despite everything they went through and did to each other over the years.  Maybe that's why Becky decided to, on a whim, give him a chance. She could believe that.

Sometimes, Sami called her too.  When Smackdown's over and she's checking into the next hotel.  He always texted first, to make sure it was all right and he wasn't interrupting a meal or whatever plans she had with whoever she was traveling with, and sometimes she wondered if it's because Kevin isn't available to talk to.  But she doesn't mind, and they happily talk about everything and nothing until it either gets too late and she has to sleep, or Sami gives in to the drowsy pull of the medicine he's on.

It's like a routine, but it's not.  It's like a support network, but it's not.  Whatever it is, this weird amalgamation of routine and support and friendship, that's morphed into something a little stranger with Kevin being added in and random, late night phone calls but it's . . . nice.  And it means a lot to Becky, more and more with each text and call and cute picture that's sent her way.

\--

The night before Summerslam found them on the phone again, talking about nothing.  It's not any different from their usual calls, even when it turns to wrestling. Becky's nervous and excited for her title match, everything in the last few weeks leading up to this.  Sami had called her the night Charlotte had been added to the match absolutely _livid_ , going off on a rant that she'd just laughed through, even as he'd said every single thing she'd thought and felt.  The conversation was circling around to that now, and she hummed in agreement to what Sami said, not really hearing him the first time, lost in her own thoughts.

"I mean it, Becky."  Sami said, and the change in his tone, quieter and more certain than before made her sit up a bit straighter, pay more attention.  This wasn't a tone she knew, this wasn't the fun-loving Sami or the bad guy on TV, this was . . . something else. Whatever it was, she couldn't put a word on it, but the tone rang deep inside of her.  "Do what you have to in the match. In those kinds of matches . . . " Sami trailed off, pausing, and Becky could practically hear him searching for the right words. He finally sighed. "It really fucks things up."

She couldn't help but huff a tired laugh.  "You're telling me." He answered with a tired laugh of his own, and her tone sobered, similar to the one he used.  "I know, Sami. Don't worry, yeah? It's all lead up to this."

Everything had.  All the hard work, the missed opportunities, the ones she had to scratch and claw and bleed for, every single night for the last few months.  All the shame, embarrassment, pride, adrenaline, anger, _anger_ , bitterness, happiness - all of it.  Her moment was coming.

"I believe you."  Sami's voice was soft, but so, so fond.  Genuine, like he knew she meant it. And that was a relief.  He'd still joke about her letting out her anger, brought up in the midst of their nothing conversations, finding her "dark side" and unleashing it, but - that even despite that he believed in her, that he trusted that she'd win even without that, it meant a lot to her.

"Oh - " Sami said suddenly, sounding confused for a moment, then curious.  "Kevin's calling. Do you - hey, do you want to talk to him too?"

It was a swerve in their odd not-routine.  Her match tomorrow was important, but Kevin's was - man, she did _not_ want to think about it too deeply.  The poor man - since when was Kevin at all poor in her head? - had to be driving himself up a wall thinking about it.

"Sure."  She answered easily, surprising herself.  "Why not?" It couldn't hurt, right? And their brief, serious conversation had come to an end.

She waited for Sami to connect the calls, her end going quiet, and when the calls connected together again Kevin was already talking and she couldn't help but grin.

"--don't think that's a good - oh, uh.  Hey Becky."

"Kevin."  She greeted him cheerfully.  "We're in the same hotel, right?  What floor are you on?"

The easy conversation seemed to help, because Kevin didn't sound as wary.  "Second, you?"

"Third.  Y'know, whoever's down there is causing an awful lot of racket.  Mind telling them to keep it down?" It was said as a joke - she'd complained to Sami about it earlier too, laughing the entire time, that whoever was downstairs below her was either throwing a party or doing something she didn't want to think too much about, and there were no signs of them stopping.  

Sami snickered, and Kevin answered over it.  "You hear them too?" He sounded amused underneath the tone of his outraged annoyance.  "Fuckin' - I bet it's Ambrose and Rollins. Those idiots don't know what quiet _means_."

"Dean is pretty loud."  Sami agreed, and then he and Becky were both laughing as Kevin grumbled, and Becky forgot to remember that this was supposed to be weird.

It didn't last too long; it was already late, and Becky and Kevin both had to be at the arena early, but it was still a good hour of talking about - nothing.  People stuff. Friend stuff? Friend stuff, Becky decided lately, firmly, to herself. As the call ended Becky wished Kevin a sincere good luck - he hadn't brought his match up once and she couldn't blame him - and he did the same to her, and after they hung up and she packed in for the night, Becky went to bed feeling exhausted but . . . good.

Like tomorrow was finally her moment.  

\--

It had felt _good_ .  Better than she'd thought it would.  To finally, _finally_ let her anger boil over, a year of frustrations, of falling short, of being screwed over, overlooked, of being considered an underdog, of losses and hardships and _not being enough_ \- of all those things and more.  And to take it out on Charlotte, who'd once again stolen a win from her -

It hadn't just felt good, it had felt fucking _great_.

She ignored the cameras as she stalked to the back, and it felt like a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders, like the weight of the world was gone.  A part of her was still iffy, scared, bloody _terrified_ , but there was no scrambling for the lid, there was no stopping the overflow of everything like there once was - she felt like a new woman.  She felt _free._

In her locker room she slammed the door shut behind her, locking it to be safe and takes a seat, taking a couple of slow, careful breathes to steady the still coursing adrenaline running through her.  Out of the corner of eye, peeking out of her bag, she can see her phone blinking, surely filled with messages and tweets and all manner of things from everyone under the sun, having seen what she did.

Instead of grabbing it she showered first, taking her time, letting the water wash off all the grime and sweat and bad feelings from her skin.  She let her head hang down to watch the soap circle the drain, as if watching everything drain with it, the last remains of the of the old Becky Lynch draining with it.  It's almost poetic. She huffed a tired laugh, staying in the shower until the water ran cold and she can't stand it anymore.

Her phone continued to blink as she changed into her street clothes, as she brushed her hair up and pulled it up until a messy ponytail, as she took her time pattering around the room gathering her belongings and packing them all away - why was she hesitating?  Why was she nervous? Because she was, a heavy weight in her stomach, that kept her from snatching her phone and reading whatever was waiting there.

It isn't as though she has to guess who she had messages from, but a part of her - that little, tiny part of her that was still the old Becky, a tiny voice in the back of her mind that was desperately clinging to remain, was worried that Sami was - what _would_ he think?  She's practically betrayed every single thing she's insisted to him in the last almost year of talking back and forth, and she can handle one betrayal, but two?  She almost doesn't want to care. She _doesn't_ want to care.

She's surprised that, after everything from tonight, she does.

When she finally picked up her phone, it isn't just one message, like she expected  There's some from other people of course, the expected ones from family and friends both in the business and not, the twitter notifications, but the names blur and only two stick out - Sami and Kevin.   _Kevin_.  Kevin had texted her, Kevin who had been absolutely destroyed that night and had no business texting her, had sent her a text.

She opens his message first, because her curiosity is too strong to ignore.

Knew you had it in you

It's praise.  It's praise, she realized, for what she did and how she did it and she's - not sure how to feel about it.  Especially coming from Kevin Owens, known best friend back stabber, but hadn't she done the same thing tonight?  Only she had done it to Charlotte's face. Only she was justified in what she did, felt justified so deeply in her bones that she ached with it.  

Kevin Owens was praising her, though, and she wasn't sure if she should feel weird that he was, or weird that it made her felt good.

She sighed out, heavy and tired, a hand rubbing at her face and up into her hair to clench at her ponytail.  She opened Sami's text next, eyes closed for a moment, breath catching in her throat -

i'm so proud of you!

not to say i told you so but i told you so haha

next time that title is yours

It's the strangest thing, to feel like she won even though she lost.  That here's Sami - and Kevin, both of them, texting her their praise as though she was the one stood center of the ring after the match, title held high and declared the winner.  Not the one who had lost, attacked her best friend - _former_ , she had to correct herself, because that ship was sailing, wasn't it? - as her anger and bitterness finally boiled over, after one too many times falling short.

It's ridiculous.  It's as ridiculous as all the texts they'd sent all year.  It's as ridiculous as this friendship of theirs, the one they'd somehow dragged Kevin into, their bonding, everything.  It's so _ridiculous._

And it's wonderful.

She felt giddy.  Giddy and ashamed and excited and angry, so many different things that she can't settle on one emotion, all of them warring in her as she finally left her locker room, long after the rest of the roster had left.  The only people remaining are a few crew and arena staff and they offer her quiet goodbyes as she walked by, and the least she can do is the same - and they didn't do anything to her, they're not her enemy, so a few even get a brief smile, and it's just like Sami, isn't it?  It's just like.

Sliding into her car, Becky let out a heavy sigh and leaned back, shutting her eyes and sighing out, shaky and drained.  There was still a war of emotions inside of her but it was quieting down, a low rumble as opposed to the load roar of earlier.  The adrenaline was still there, though, and maybe that was why it only took a moment of thought for her to turn to her bag.

She pulled out her phone and hooked it up to the bluetooth, then scrolled through her contacts until she found Sami's number.  And as the call connected she realized she hadn't responded to either his or Kevin's texts, but she doesn't have to now - at least not Sami's.  Kevin's could wait, until she was back at the hotel. Or maybe she'd call him, too. That'd be fun, maybe.

"Hello?"  Sami answered, and he sounded as pleased and proud as his text had.

She hadn't won.  She hadn't won, she wasn't champion, but she felt like one all the same.

"Guess I did have it in me," She finally murmured after a long few moments, as the words circled in her head.  She found herself smiling. "You were right after all."


End file.
